


you're bad news (but i'm no better)

by owlvsdove



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Gen, Humor, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 19:52:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5103689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlvsdove/pseuds/owlvsdove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rival assassins Jemma, Skye, and Fitz do not want to work together. Or be friends. Or talk to each other. At all. Ever. Nope. Not even a little bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're bad news (but i'm no better)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sleeplessmiles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeplessmiles/gifts).



 

“I just don’t understand,” Jemma says between laden huffs of breath as she drags the body across the floor. “Why they would hire three assassins when one is clearly better.”

“You mean me,” Skye says, also huffing under the weight of the dead man.

“ _No_ , I mean _me_.”

Fitz has one arm on his hip and another pressed to his lips, like he’s thinking hard. “A little to the left.”

Skye and Jemma both drop the body in irritation, and it’s left half-dangling over the chute. “Listen, kiddo,” Skye bites. “You’re not in charge here.”

“You’re younger than me,” he responds simply.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“ _No_ , I’m not.”

“Yes—”

“Oy!” Jemma interjects.

In frustration, Skye nudges the body with the point of her boot, so it might naturally fall down the elevator shaft. It does. It takes a long moment before they hear the loud, squishy thud.

Skye pulls a disgusted face, but Fitz walks forward to join Jemma leaning over the edge, seeing if they can get a peek.

Skye removes Fitz’s clinging little device from the metal of the electric panel, and the elevator door tries to close on them and resume functionality. The other two spring backwards, twin dirty looks cast in Skye’s direction.

“There’s no need to disrupt—”

“What? Morbid curiosity?” Skye interrupts Jemma.

Jemma rolls her eyes.

“Everything we do is morbid,” Fitz points out. “We’re assassins.”

Skye jams the down button with her finger several times in a row. “Go get the tech. I’ll hold the elevator.”

Fitz moves to leave, but Jemma stops him. “Oh, no! I’m not leaving you here to get back to the client before me—” Fitz coughs. “— _us_ and get all of the credit!”

“ _You’re_ the one who has the finger, genius,” Skye says.

Jemma pats the pocket holding a dead man’s ring-clad finger self-consciously. “Yes, but I’m clearly the most trustworthy of all of us. I’ll stay here.”

“Clearly, how? Just because you’re bad at lying doesn’t mean you’re trustworthy.”

“I’m not _bad_ at it; you just caught me by surprise—”

The elevator dings. The two women look up to see Fitz laden with bags, hurrying toward the open doors.

Skye shrugs and follows him inside.

Jemma, who refuses to follow anyone without good reason, backs into the elevator as well.

The descent is quiet. Until they get to the sub-basement, when a sick squish and the feeling of the car being knocked askew stopped them in their tracks. Perfect. The client wanted the body found quickly.

Jemma pulls a pry bar out of one of the kits and wrenches the doors apart, plenty of space for them to get out as long as they duck their heads.

The confirmation is set to take place several blocks away, so they each part ways silently, finding their stashed vehicles (for Skye, a rather unsightly van, Fitz a well-worn sedan, and Jemma a surprisingly compact motorbike, at which Skye just raises an eyebrow) and stowing away their gear before heading over.

 

 

 

“I see the three of you met,” the woman in the flower dress says, sounding a little too knowing for any of their tastes. Flanked by two burly goons, she gazes regally down at the dead man’s finger, seeming queenly even though she’s a couple inches shorter than Jemma, even.

“What the hell?” Skye launches in testily. “Each of us is good enough on our own, why did you need three of us?”

“I needed to make sure without the shadow of a doubt that he was put down,” Raina responds. “You can never be too careful, can you?” she says, and that seems to be directed vaguely at Jemma.

Raina waves a hand and the henchman to her left produces three bulging envelopes, tossing one to each of them. None of them bothers to count it. Raina has enough class to include a full sum, regardless. And if whomever she works for has enough dough to order three hitmen for the job of one, well, it’s not like they have reason to skimp.

“What did he do to deserve all three of us?” Jemma asks, unable to stop herself.

Raina stares her dead in the eyes and softly speaks. “He broke a promise.”

 

 

 

“Well, that wasn’t creepy at all,” Skye deadpans as Raina’s BMW goes screeching away. “Aren’t you a little curious what her deal is?”

No,” Fitz says definitively. “I’d like to keep my brain stem attached to my spine, thanks.”

“That’s something we all have in common!” Jemma says brightly. “I am curious though.”

The three of them stop in the late night dark air, waiting for some sort of sign.

But there isn’t one.

“I guess that’s over, then,” Fitz says.

“I guess so,” Skye says.

“Goodbye,” Jemma says.

And they part ways.

 

 

 

 

Jemma slaps a pair of glossy eight-by-tens onto the desk Melinda May is working on. “Do you know them?”

“Why?” she asks, because _of course she does_.

“They were at my job tonight. The employer hired all three of us.”

May thinks that over, continuing to clean her pistol.

“The kid’s name is Fitz. Some sort of tech prodigy.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Jemma says, shifting on her feet.

“Rumor is he’s responsible for some of the freak accidents in the Financial District,” May goes on. “People say he’s not all there.”

“And her?”

“You didn’t recognize her style?” May asks, finally looking up at Jemma’s tense form.

“No,” she says defensively.

“What name did she give?”

Jemma’s brow furrows. “Skye.”

“You’d know her by another name. The Rising Tide?”

Jemma’s jaw goes slack.

 

 

 

 

 

The retina scanner in the doorway accepts Skye with little more than a bored buzz. It doesn’t seem to understand her seething anger, whipped up into a frenzy behind the wheel on her drive home.

“Oh god. What happened?” Lincoln asks, getting up as he sees the deep-seated irritation coloring her face.

“They hired three of us.”

“I thought it was just one target,” Grant says, decidedly less ruffled by Skye’s angry face.

“It _was_ ,” she bites, arms crossed. “The buyer bought all three of us, no warning, no prep, no plan.”

“How’d it go?” Kara asks, also sounding a bit bored. Bobbi comes up behind her and smoothes her hair as Kara dips her spoon lazily into a yogurt cup.

“It was fine! That’s not the point!”

“What is the point?”

“The point is we’re the goddamn _League of Assassins_!”

“Please stop making comic book references. Nobody understands them but you,” Grant says immediately. He’s been on the receiving end of this comparison for a while.

“We’re The Rising Tide. We have a reputation for getting things done. This is insulting.”

“Job’s over. You got your cash. Move on to the next objective,” Grant instructs, but Skye just rolls her eyes.

“This is why you have no self-respect, Grant.”

“Rude,” Lincoln objects. Kara pats Grant’s hand comfortingly.

“No, no. It’s okay. Skye values our identity as an organization. And that’s important.” Grant stalks forward. “But what’s less important is getting riled up by some buyer just because your pride is hurt. You’re the youngest of us, Skye. The least experienced. Try not to take it personally.”

Grant leaves. Skye’s deep-set frown turns comical against her will.

 

 

 

 

Fitz tosses a banana to Tesla, and Mack cringes at it.

“That thing freaks me out.”

“That thing is our ancestor,” Fitz bites. “And he’s majestic.”

“He’s seen too much.”

“He can’t talk, don’t be ridiculous,” Fitz mutters. “Not yet, anyway.”

“This is what happens when people get rich,” Mack scolds. “They buy weird pets.”

“Do you have the mods?” Fitz asks impatiently.

“Do you have the money?” Mack counters.

Fitz opens his envelope, counts out half of it and places it on the table for Mack.

“Listen, man,” Mack says, sensing his discomfort. “Your hands are getting better. Soon you won’t even need me.”

“Thanks for watching him,” Fitz says abruptly, whistling for Tesla to follow and picking up the box with Mack’s repairs.

Mack just sighs.

 

 

 

 

“ _Trip_!” A voice hisses from his left. Trip stops and looks, knowing exactly who it is but still afraid of whatever is causing her to sneak around. “Trip!”

Jemma waves him over frantically.

He follows her into the alcove. “What?”

“I need you to be my wingman,” she says seriously.

He laughs loudly, and that sends Jemma into a flurry of shushing.

“Quiet! I don’t want May to hear.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he gasps. “I’m proud of you actually. You’re putting yourself out there!”

“What?” Her face scrunches, but she doesn’t wait for an explanation. “I need you to come with me to see the Rising Tide.”

Trip stops laughing now.

“Why would you want to do that?”

“I met one of them.”

“Listen, I only know the rumors, J. They’re bad news.”

“That’s why I want you to come with me!” she argues. “Otherwise I’ll go by myself.”

Jemma knows immediately that she got him with that. He’s a good friend.

“If we die, my ghost is telling May it was your fault.”

 

 

 

“So, what? None of you have heard of either of them before?” Skye asks, completely dumbfounded to have come up with nothing.

“It’s not that,” Bobbi says. “But you’re a little focused on them, don’t you think?”

“So you _do_ know who they are.”

Bobbi sighs. “The woman, Simmons? She belongs to Melinda May. You don’t want to fuck with her.”

“Melinda May, as in _The Cavalry_ Melinda May?” Skye asks, eyes bugging out.

Bobbi nods.

“Holy shit,” Skye breathes. “And what about him?” she asks, pointing to Fitz’s picture.

“I don’t who this one is. But that’s not actually a bad thing.”

“Why?” Skye asks, interest piqued.

“ _Because it doesn’t matter_.”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Skye groans. “What’s so wrong with knowing your competition?”

“They’re not competition, Skye,” Bobbi explains. “We’ve all got our own contacts, our own turf. May’s never tried to fuck with the Tide and we’ve never tried to fuck with her. The only person interested in crossing those streams right now is _you_.”

Before Skye can let out another exasperated noise, sirens holler and PERIMETER BREACH flashes on the screen. Skye snaps into action and with a few clicks she’s got an image of the intruders.

“Is this what you call not fucking with us?” Skye asks, too smug to be concerned.

Bobbi rolls her eyes before grabbing her pistol.

 

 

“Now you’ve done it,” Trip says, as the sound of the alarms sinks in.

“You’re supposed to be my Yes Man! Stop being so negative!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Trip says dutifully.

“Now, I’m sure they’ll act civilized.”

“ _HANDS UP OR WE’LL BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT,_ ” a forceful male voice comes through hidden speakers.

“Oh, fucking hell,” Jemma says, doing as she’s told. Trip follows suit.

 

 

 

“That’s a little much, Lincoln,” Kara chides.

“What? They’re on our property!”

“Relax, Linc. That’s the girl I worked with,” Skye says as she enters with Bobbi.

“Yeah, I know,” Lincoln says. “And she brought some _muscle_.”

Grant nearly rolls his eyes. “I think we can take them.”

 

 

 

“You’re on our territory,” Skye says, low voice on as the two intruders enter with their hands up. Five guns are trained on them and neither Trip nor Jemma likes the odds on this.

“I bloody well _know_ that. I did come here on purpose.”

Now Grant actually rolls his eyes. “How did you _find_ us?”

Jemma turns to look at who spoke and her eyes widen a little. “Grant?”

And then Grant has to pause. “Jemma?”

“You two know each other?” Skye nearly screeches. “I _asked you_ —” Bobbi puts a hand over her mouth.

“She changed her hair, I didn’t recognize her,” Grant excuses.

“Besides, I don’t really _know_ him,” Jemma says. “I just know his penis.”

Grant shrugs.

“What?!” Trip says. “You were in bed with someone from the Rising Tide?”

“I didn’t know he was from the Rising Tide! He told me he was a pilot for British Airways!”

“And you told me you were a botanist with Dexter Laboratories!” Grant butts in.

“Yeah, see!” Jemma points. “We didn’t know!”

“Dex— _Dexter’s Laboratory_?” Skye snaps, sunk with disbelief. “That’s a fucking cartoon!”

“What?” Grant says. Jemma shrugs, not bothering to look ashamed.

“Hate to break up this reunion,” Bobbi cuts in, not looking like she actually hates to do that at all. “But why the hell are you here?”

“I wanted to talk to Skye,” Jemma says simply. Everyone waits for her to continue, but she doesn’t.

“About…?”

“Just to…follow up on our job.” It sounds like bullshit. “It’s only polite! We didn’t get properly acquainted, what with all the confusion and arguing and murder.”

Suddenly, a large clang comes from near the ceiling as the grate over an air duct pops out of the wall and slams to the floor, human head emerging.

Every gun in the room turns towards the sound with a start, and Grant even fires a shot, but instead of killing the person, it pings softly and ricochets away.

“Rude,” Fitz says. He removes a helmet that suddenly shimmers into visibility, and he checks out a small ding in the metal from the stopped bullet.

“What the fuck are you doing in our wall?!” Skye shouts.

“ _She_ was coming to visit, so I thought I would too.”

Grant, with one hand, grabs Fitz by the collar and lifts him out of the duct and sets him on the ground. Fitz doesn’t seem remotely bothered.

“How’d you know we were coming?” Jemma demands.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Fitz asks, eyeing Trip.

“How did you get in, Fitz?” Skye presses. “We have counter-invasion measures out the ass!”

“ _Well_ , I have _counter_ -counter-invasion measures. It’s sort of my specialty.”

“Okay, this is too much,” Kara breaks. “This is too many people. This is ridiculous. The compound isn’t even secure anymore.”

“Melinda May is sending us a message,” Bobbi says seriously.

That’s when Jemma’s eyes widen, no longer looking so unaffected. “No! No, May didn’t send us. She has nothing to do with this.”

“Simmons just wanted to talk to Skye,” Trip backs her up.

“Please don’t bring May into this,” Jemma begs.

A tense silence falls over them as each of the Tide decides whether or not they believe them.

“Fine,” Skye says finally. “Let’s talk.”

 

 

 

“This isn’t quite what I was imagining,” Jemma says wearily, eyeing her surroundings. “You just keep a torture chamber in your house?”

“It’s an interrogation room, and sometimes it’s necessary. Like right now,” Skye answers.

“Listen,” Jemma breaks. “I don’t have a good reason why I’m here, other than I think you were right the other night.”

Skye raises her eyebrows. “What?”

“I think we should look into Raina.”

Skye is stunned for a moment. “I wasn’t suggesting an investigation, Nancy Drew. I just thought it was weird.”

“You were _curious_.”

“I put my curiosity aside a lot of the time. Like about how you and Grant did the deed. Or if your friend out there has a girlfriend.”

Jemma flushes, feeling somewhat put out before collecting herself. “I’m a good assassin,” she says slowly, clearly. “But I didn’t dream of being one when I was a kid. I have a moral compass. Or at least what’s left of one.”

Skye tries not to feel affected by this.

“When you said you were curious, I just—” Jemma pauses. “I thought maybe you felt the same.”

But that’s just the problem. Skye does feel the same, and that’s what makes her different from the rest of the Rising Tide. She hasn’t grown up enough to swallow that part of herself yet. Every once in a while she dreams of Robin Hood, sure. But this is the real world.

Skye can’t be taken just by doe eyes and a home invasion.

“We can leave right now and you’ll never have to see me again, and we can forget this ever happened if that’s what you want. It’s up to you.”

Skye doesn’t want it to be up to her. Because if it’s up to her—the most _her_ part of her—then she’s going to say—

“Let’s do it.”

Jemma glows.

 

 

 

“Where have you been?”

“Fuck!” Jemma shrieks, jumping out of her skin. May does this for fun on a good day. It’s even worse when Jemma knows she’s done something wrong.

“Where. Have. You. Been?” May repeats.

Trip immediately leaves her side, muttering something about his balls.

“Out,” Jemma says petulantly, aiming for a humorous approximation of _teenager_ that May might find amusing.

“You went to the Rising Tide.”

Jemma says nothing, sinking guiltily into herself.

“You should _not_ have done that.”

“Raina brought the three of us together for a reason!”

“Yes, she did,” May says firmly. “To take out a target. And you did that.”

“Something bigger is going on, May,” Jemma insists, big earnest eyes pleading. “I don’t know what this is or how much trouble it leads to, but there was something off about this job and I need to know what it was.”

May sighs. “So, what? The Rising Tide miraculously decided it was time to collaborate?”

Jemma smiles weakly. “Skye is taking care of that part.”

 

 

 

“I sent her packing!” Skye announces. “Don’t worry!”

Nobody seems worried.

“The Cavalry’s Extremely Attractive Cohort of Assassins is gone, and we’ll probably never see them again!”

More silence.

“So you can just put them out of your mind, because I took care of it. Oh boy, did I!”

Grant looks up blandly. “You agreed to work with Jemma, didn’t you?”

Skye grimaces. “...No?”

 

 

“Is it just me, or are you being super loud?”

“It’s just you,” Jemma sniffs. Skye rolls her eyes.

“Ew. Oh, god. There’s gum. I stepped in gum,” Skye whimpers.

“That’s what happens when you do recon from a behind a hedge,” Jemma says in her know-it-all voice. She would have preferred the high vantage point of the abandoned building across the street, but Skye insisted on being closer so they could actually hear what was being said.

“I know,” Skye replies, irritated. “But these are new.”

Jemma looks down at them. They’re actually gorgeous. “They’re nice,” Jemma says begrudgingly.

“Thanks.”

“Now you both are being loud,” a voice says from behind them, and they forget not to shriek.

“Fitz!” Jemma seethes.

“Why are you following us?” Skye whisper-shouts.

“I was offended,” he sniffs. “That you didn’t invite me.”

“ _You_ were the one who said you didn’t want to get decapitated,” Skye says.

“Yeah, _well_. I’m not afraid of Raina.”

Jemma turns back to look at the flowered woman, ordering around a group of henchmen. “You should be.”

Skye sighs in agreement. “She mentioned us earlier.”

“Said she was going to let us squabble to death,” Jemma finishes.

Fitz’s brow furrows ominously.

And then three sets of meaty hands pluck them out of the bushes.

 

 

 

“You three are good at killing,” Raina simpers. “But you’re not that good at spying.”

“Take that back,” Fitz says. Skye kicks him.

Raina pauses to smirk at him. “Unlike most girls, Mr. Fitz, I’m not interested in being chased.”

“Why the three of us, Raina?” Skye pushes. “What’s so important about this guy being dead?”

Raina sighs to herself, giving them a long pause in which to wonder what happens next. “Alright,” she says. “I’ll confess.”

Jemma sits up straighter in her chair as the three of them exchange looks. 

“Your target was a pawn. I needed the three of you together because I have plans for you.”

Silence stings them for a moment.

“Did we kill an innocent man?” Jemma asks.

Raina nearly scoffs. “God, you really are an amateur. What does it matter?”

“It matters to us,” Skye says, trying to back Jemma up.

“You’re supposed to be _assassins_.” But she rolls her eyes. “I don’t go around needlessly murdering,” Raina insists. “Don’t worry. He deserved it.”

But now all three of them were wondering by whose standards they should judge. Or if they should be the ones to judge at all.

“How do you have plans for us? You don’t even know us,” Jemma insists.

Raina leans in close to her, and with her hands tied behind the chair Jemma feels desperately vulnerable.

“Oh, I know you.” And her lips curl sinisterly. “Jemma Simmons, two and a half years into Oxford, disappears in the dead of night, leaving death in her wake? Does that ring a bell?”

Jemma feels faint.

And then Raina straightens up to move down the line. “And we have the orphan Skye, bouncing from crowd to crowd until she finally found something she was good at that wouldn’t be the subject of an after-school special.”

Skye swallows hard, growing livid.

“And the mysterious Leo Fitz. But the only reason you’re a mystery is because of the accident that left you braindead, weak and useless.”

Fitz looks away.

“Tell me I don’t know you,” Raina says, smiling like she’s won.

“If you want us to do something for you, this isn’t the best way to go about it,” Jemma bites, voice shaking.

“Well, spying on me isn’t the best way to get on my good side, either,” Raina sniffs.

“What makes you think we want to work with you again anyway?” Skye asks.

“Well, now I think so because I have you with your hands tied behind your back,” she threatens. “But I know a trio of kittens like you can’t deny sating your curiosity.”

They shift uncomfortably, and Raina knows she’s right. She smirks, pressing a button on the intercom. There’s a low buzz, and then two guards enter.

“They’re free to go. Escort them out,” Raina instructs.

But for a moment this alarms the prisoners more than any physical threat would. “You never answered my question!” Jemma shouts as the henchmen approach. Raina turns on her heel. “Why did you choose us?”

But she’s gone.

 

 

 

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Jemma whispers. Once again, in Raina’s wake, the three of them stare at each other, unsure.

“Raina didn’t just cut us loose,” Skye says. “She’s playing a game we don’t even know the rules to.”

“We can’t stop now,” Fitz bites, hatred filling his heart. “Her organization knows too much about us anyway. One ‘accidental’ leak and our reputations are destroyed.”

“Right,” Jemma says, thinking of May. “You’re right.”

“We poked the bear,” Skye says glumly. “And now we’re on the hook for its next meal.”

“I still don’t understand what she wants with us specifically,” Jemma says, brow furrowing hard. “There’s nothing connecting us.”

“There’s nothing special about us,” Fitz echoes.

“Except the fact that we’re all easily blackmail-able, apparently,” Skye mutters, darkening. But then she pauses, realizing. “We’re the weak spots.”

“What?”

“We’re the weak ones in our organizations.” And Skye fills with horror. “I’m the youngest.”

“Um,” Jemma says. “I resent that?” But she can’t actually deny it. May’s crew was filled with legends. Legends, and her.

“I’m not a part of an organization,” Fitz points out.

“No, but you’re a legend in the community. You’re an independent contractor, and that’s what you represent. They can use you to send a message.”

“Skye—”

“I know it sounds crazy, but it feels true, doesn’t it?”

Jemma and Fitz exchange a look.

“If we’re the weak ones,” Jemma starts. “Then we should consult the strong ones, shouldn’t we?”

Skye raises her eyebrows.

 

 

 

 

It’s a convening of the truly powerful. This time, because fair is fair, the Rising Tide is invited to May’s territory, as well as whomever Fitz deems necessary. For Fitz, this seems to be one giant guy who just looks happy to be there.

“Man, do you realize the body count in this room?” Mack, as he was simply introduced, whistles lowly. But he doesn’t look disturbed, just excited.

There’s a general uneasy tittering until Skye shushes them, and then suddenly it’s all eyes on them.

“As you all may know,” Jemma starts out, suddenly feeling nervous. “The three of us were hired for the same job a week ago by this woman.” Fitz clicks a button and Raina’s image, taken through the bushes, appears on the screen behind them. “We only know her as Raina.”

“We believe that she’s targeting us,” Skye takes over. “The Rising Tide, Melinda May, and all of the independents. She wants the city for herself.”

“We think she’s trying to distract us by letting us fight it out amongst ourselves,” Fitz continues.

“She wants us together so she can destroy us all at once,” Jemma finishes.

“So…” And Skye looks over to the other two. “We need help. We don’t know what to do.”

There’s not supposed to be honor amongst thieves. It should be fair to say there’s no loyalty among killers.

And that’s nearly proven right, thanks to one Victoria Hand.

“You want to go wrestle with this girl, Peaches,” Victoria smirks. May rolls her eyes. “You go right ahead. But there’s no reason for all of us to get involved with your conspiracy theories.” Izzy nudges her to be kinder, but even Jemma knows that’s not likely.

“Why are you even afraid of this woman anyway?” Bobbi asks, crossing her arms. “She’s just one person.”

“She…” Skye starts, uncomfortable. “She knows things about us.”

May’s eyes snap to Jemma’s. Jemma nods.

“She has enough information on all of us to destroy us,” Skye continues. “And if she got that then who knows what else she has.”

“You buried everything, Skye,” Grant says. Finally, he looks alarmed. “You buried it all.”

“She found it anyway!” Skye snaps. “I don’t know how, but she did.”

They all fall silent, as the gravity of one uncontrollable person knowing all of their secrets sets in.

“Maybe we should take her out, just to be safe,” Natasha says. Victoria nods widely. Apparently Skye and Ward’s turbulent display mollified them.

“Something has to be done,” May says.

“I agree,” Bobbi says.

“I think...I think I have an idea.” All eyes in the room swing to Fitz.

He doesn’t shrink.

 

 

 

“You’ve had this tech the whole time?” Skye asks, alarmed.

“Yep.”

“Why didn’t we use this when we were staking out Raina the first time?” Jemma asks.

“You two seemed to have it under control.”

Skye shoves Fitz. He breaks into a small smile.

“She just took a job,” Mack alerts them, one ear of the giant headphones off as he scribbles down the details.

“Wait.” Skye turns fully towards Fitz now, and Jemma seems to come to the same conclusion. “Did you use this thing on us?”

Fitz has no shame. He smirks. “You two asked around about me. And each other.”

“Ugh, Fitz!” Jemma groans.

“I don’t have networks of criminals on my side,” Fitz argues. “It only evened the playing field.”

“It’s _rude_ ,” Jemma argues.

“It’s fair.”

“It’s an invasion of privacy, and if this friendship is going any farther you have to promise not to use it on us again,” Skye growls.

But Fitz pauses. “We’re friends?”

Skye sighs. “No. Shut up.”

“We’re friends,” he repeats, sure.

“I already have friends,” Jemma says, crossing her arms.

It’s then that Victoria Hand passes by, shouting, “THIS IS YOUR FAULT, PEACHES.”

Jemma sighs. “Okay, fine. We’re friends.”

“And here’s another one,” Mack calls, scribbling again.  He holds up the two slips of paper. “You gotta move now.”

Skye takes one and hands the other to Jemma. Fitz looks between them. “I don’t even get to come with?”

“That’s for spying on us,” Jemma says haughtily.

“Later, nerd,” Skye preens.

And they’re gone.

“You think this is gonna work, Turbo?” Mack asks.

“I think if we get to enough of her jobs before she does, Raina’ll get the message.”

 

 

 

But it’s not just killing first. It’s getting the payoff first.

“I did you a favor, slick,” Skye says smoothly. “You can’t trust Raina. She’s messy. She lies. She schemes. I’m not telling you to hire me or anyone else. But don’t hire her.”

Slick seems convinced. And terrified that someone else knows he had someone killed. He hands over the money with shaking hands.

 

 

 

Across town, Jemma receives her cash with stable ones.

“Raina’s up to no good. I may be a killer, but I’m not a liar. I’m not very good at it.”

They seem to believe her.

 

 

 

This goes on for two weeks - two weeks of stolen jobs and stolen money and stolen pride.  They’re impressed it takes Raina this long to cave.

“ _I don’t know how,_ ” Raina’s seething voice echoes out of the speakers. “ _But those stupid runts have ruined my reputation!”_

“ _Calm down, Raina,_ ” A male voice says.

“ _No, I will not calm down,_ ” she spits. “ _I put on the whole goddamn circus act to convince them that I was a client and they figured it out because HYDRA is full of holes._ ”

“ _So you’re just leaving?_ ” A male voice says. “ _The boss won’t be happy._ ”

“ _I don’t care._ ” The sound of rustling clothes and shoes as they’re likely dumped into a suitcase. “ _Call me when he has a takeover plan that will actually_ work _._ ”

“Someone else is pulling the strings,” Skye murmurs. “HYDRA.”

“But they’re knocked down for now,” May says. The three of them and Mack look up to see their teams have clustered around them, also listening. “That’s good work. Now they know not to mess with us.”

“Us,” Skye murmurs.

May nods, and Bobbi sidles up next to May. “Us.”

The three runts can’t help but smile.

 

 

 

They stand facing each other, huddled and unsure.

“So, we did it,” Skye says.

“We drove Raina out of town,” Fitz agrees.

“For now,” Jemma says carefully.

“And we’ve entered into an alliance,” Fitz breathes, sounding somewhat in awe.

“I’m reasonably sure we all can handle that,” Jemma adds.

“If we stick together,” Skye says. And she sounds hopeful.

“Want to go get a drink?” Jemma says suddenly.

“Should we invite the others?” Fitz asks.

“Nah. Let’s just do the three of us tonight,” Skye responds.

 

 

 

And when Skye wakes up naked between her two equally bare new friends, well, she’s not even that surprised.  

 


End file.
